I've chosen the road less travelled

Last night just after I gulped in deeply the scent of an unexpected and translucent lemon blossom on the tree in my backyard, the rain started. Even in the dark I could see that the mountain behind the house was completely covered in a woolly blanket of mist. Every time I awoke in the night I'd smile deep-in-my-sleep-to-myself at the sound of the rain, at the splat of it on the ground outside my window because of the rusty hole in the gutter. So far this year my distractions have been less, the pull to the city diminished, and my home has drawn me in and pulled itself around me; this last weekend, two years ago, I fell in love and offered to buy it. Now, sitting on the couch, my knees pulled under my chin and my morning pages book on the arm of my blue couch, I sip coffee from my little brown-glass mug (the only one left from the original 80's family set) and rejoice in my almost complete freedom... longing to travel, open to the world, I wonder where this road will lead?